


Robin

by Rohen



Category: Young Justice - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, College AU, Eventual Smut, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Stripper!AU, Strippers, Tags May Change
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-08
Updated: 2016-01-08
Packaged: 2018-05-12 16:14:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5672224
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rohen/pseuds/Rohen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oh, he had a tattoo. Right on his bicep. Of a bird, a red one. It's wings were spread, as if it were in flight. </p><p>The realization had Wally's face flushing again--- he should have noticed it right away. Had he really been so distracted that he couldn't see a huge, obvious tattoo of a bird on that kid's arm? Jesus. He would never hear the end of it....</p><p> </p><p>In which we learn about revenge, love, and finding oneself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Robin

**Author's Note:**

> Explanations for why Robin is a stripper will be added, don't worry, I didn't just plop him into this without a plan. :^) 
> 
> Also this is going to be mostly plot, and probably some angst. Ya strippers are sexy but that's not rly the point

 

Wally lifted his phone out of his pocket with a huff, swiping the screen as a message blinked into view: 

 

> _i better see ur ass later, cuz. u promised to celebrate my acceptance and i’m holding u to it_

 

Wally sighed, rolling his eyes. Bart could be rather persistent when it came to familial matters, especially familial matters that centered around himself, and wouldn’t let Wally forget his promise six months ago that ‘if you get accepted to my university, then we'll celebrate in _style_ , Bart’. And Bart would be sure to see the end of that promise, much to Wally’s utter dismay. 

 

> _I know, I know_

 

He shoved his phone back into his pocket, ignoring the vibration of a returned message, it was bound to be some sort of exclamation, and shuffled through the front door his house, kicking his shoes off. 

“I’m home,” he called, switching the lock behind him.

  
  
He listened for a reply that never came, and shrugged his jacket off his shoulders.

  
Cool.

  
  
The house was his, even if it was just for a few hours.

 

He made his way to the kitchen, planning on making a quick meal and situating himself snuggly in front of Netflix before he was forced out of the house. Usually, he loved to go clubbing, but his first week back to school had, in no uncertain terms, knocked him on his ass. Why his teachers had, in what seemed like a team effort, decided to throw an absurd amount of work onto returning students before they could fully settle back into routine, made him scratch his head in questioning.  

  
Maybe he'd get a start on his assignments before going out later. Maybe. 

  
Probably not. 

  
He looked down as a soft, fluffy body brushed against his leg, giving a soft mewl. 

  
"Hey, 'nado," Wally murmured, closing the fridge door with a bump of his shoulder. He reached down with his free hand to scratch behind the tabby cat's red ear, which earned a pleased, half lidded expression and an arched back. "You hungry, buddy?" 

  
  
The cat peered up at him, disturbed at the lack of contact, and mewled again. Wally chuckled, "Alright, let me put this pizza in the oven and I'll hook you up, bud." 

  
He shuffled across the room, a red ball of fluff winding between his legs, and shoved the pizza in the oven, ignoring the instructions for "pre-heat to 400 degrees" (it tasted the same either way, he argued to Kaldur the other week, caught in the act. Kaldur was unimpressed.). Then he opened a cupboard and pulled out a bag of cat food, giving it a good shake to catch the his pet's interest. 

  
  
Wally smiled at a particular loud mewl and gave the tabby a generous portion, watching him as he began to crunch happily through his dinner.

  
He stretched, suddenly feeling worn out, and made his way to the living room to get comfortable until his dinner was ready. It was a spacious room, rather undecorated, seeing as he nor his roommates particularly cared for aesthetics, instead focusing more on the functionality of their shared space. There was a a comfortable, black leather couch and a matching reclining chair situated in front of an expensive looking entertainment center. A few dumbbells lay in the middle of the room, and he figured Conner must of worked out and had forgotten to put them away. No biggy. He moved them back to their proper place, then flopped across the couch, flicking the TV on. 

  
  
Living with Kaldur and Conner was easy enough; they were all friends, and found a balance easily enough together. It helped they all shared similar schedules, and interests, not excluding their major, and often helped each other out when it came to school, work, even daily life. It was a good set up, regardless of how different each of them was personality wise, and Wally was pleased he didn't have to share a dorm this year. Last year he lucked out with meeting Kaldur, who happened to be his roommate. And then they met Conner, who shared a class with them (and wasn't as lucky with his roomate. He said one day the kid snapped, he had apparently kept calling him Logan and his name was _Lagaan_. Whatever), and soon they were thick as thieves.

  
Well, not thieves, perhaps.

  
  
Kaldur was too moralistic to be compared to a thief. But they were close, closer than most friends Wally had made throughout his life. And the house they found just a few miles from campus _and_ downtown was absolutely prime, and most importantly, affordable. Besides the constant nag of school work, and track team, he was happy, and life was good. 

  
And, he had started talking to a _girl_.

  
A funny, smart, hot as _hell_ , opinionated girl. And that was definitely something that he was happy with. He met Artemis through Conner's on again off again, currently on again, girlfriend, and at first they had rubbed each other _more_ than the wrong way. But life had a funny way of pushing people together, even just as friends, which Wally knew, begrudgingly, that they were _just friends_. He was hyper-aware they were just friends. Very aware. But still, it was cool to be talking to someone, with the linger of _What If_ on the horizon.   
  
  
In fact..   
  
He dug his phone out of his pocket, hoping he would have a message from said girl. He quickly read Bart's _fukc yea! see u at 10 bro!_   (that kid typed too fast to care about text accuracy, seriously, some of his typos were hilarious) and was pleased to find a message from a certain, sassy blonde. 

  
> _Hey, you still going out tonight?_

  
He  tsked, wondering if she had been planning to hang, and sped his fingers across the screen. 

  
_> yeah. gotta celebrate my cousin coming to the same school and all. ;)_ 

  
He turned on a random show, not really minding what it was. 

  
> _Any idea where?_

  
He pursed his lips and realized, no, he had no idea, and wondered for a moment if he should text Bart and ask. Didn't really matter; he wasn't driving, anyway. 

  
> _nah. knowing Bart, it's probably gonna be something extreme tho. _

  
  
A few minutes later, the oven dinged, and he grabbed himself a generous amount of pizza and made his way back to the couch. 

  
  
> _Ha, well, have fun._

  
Wally pursed his lips again, managed a response with greasy fingers, and then went back to shoveling food into his mouth. He was the _master_ of having fun, and even if he was worn out from the week, he was sure his energy would come pulsing back once the night started up. He could see himself snagging a few dances with some drunk chicks, hopefully drunk himself, and ending the night in a blissful state of intoxication induced weariness, not from _classes_ , but from dancing his ass off.

  
Yeah, that would be fun. 

  
He swallowed the last of his food and got up, figuring he'd just finish the whole thing, and then head to the shower after he had properly stuffed himself. He glanced at his watch. 8:47. Good, he had time. 

  
He finished the rest of the pizza, in a almost worryingly quick amount of time, and then checked his phone once more before heading off to get ready, smiling at Bart's message: 

  
> _dress to impress!!!_  
  
  
***

  
  
Bart whistled, smiling in the doorway at Wally. 

  
" Lookin' _crash_ , man." He complimented, eyeing Wally.

  
The older red-head smiled, ran his fingers through his hair, and laughed, "Duh." 

  
He could admit he cleaned up well enough, and managed to pass as presentable when he tried. His white, button up shirt was tight in the right places, rolled up to his elbows, and tucked into a pair of dark slacks. He had a different watch on, one with a bright orange strap, and it contrasted nicely against his tan skin. 

  
After a few more quips, they were walking back to the car, Bart's arm slung awkwardly around Wally's neck, seemingly unperturbed or unaware with the fact his cousin was taller by quite a few inches, and so had to slouch to keep Bart's feet on the ground.

  
"Wally!" A head appeared out of the car window as they closed the distance, blonde hair curled and framed around a lovely, smiling face.

  
"Hey, Cassie," Wally grinned, opening the car door to slide inside. Cassie smiled back at him, cheeks slightly flushed. "I see you pre-gamed." 

  
"Hah! Yeah, well, when Bart mentioned where we were going, I figured I'd get an early start." 

  
Bart slid into the car not a second later, mischievously smiling to the pair over his shoulder. Wally quirked an eyebrow at him, intrigued, but didn't want to give his cousin the satisfaction of knowing that. 

  
Bart shrugged and gave a short, easy laugh, before turning and starting up the engine.   
  
  
***   
  
  
  
  
Wally was out of his element. 

  
No, that is an understatement. 

  
He weaved through the crowd, following Bart's bobbing auburn head, and frowned. The music was perfect-- it bounced off the walls and thrummed through his chest, pulsing. There was a crowd he has to shove through to get to the bar, but other than that, it was a well-populated; not too crowded, not too empty. He didn't feel like he was packed into a sardine can, which was unusual for a Friday night downtown. Even as he approached the bar, Bart in front and Cassie in tow, he could see it's quality: there were three bartenders flitting around, filling drinks, laughing to each other and customers, with lights shining out from underneath the top of the counter, shimmering through an assortment of colors. The walls of the club were decorated with the same shifting colors; with no other lights except for it. It's a bit trippy, but cool, _unique_ , even. It matched the pulse of the music perfectly, each song conjuring a spell of different colors, in tune to the beat. Made the place seem like a single, living organism. 

  
  
The problem, if it could be called that, which Wally _will_  call it that, was the copious amount of, very obviously,  _male_  strippers. Exotic dancers. Performers?  _Whatever_ they're suppose to be called.

  
They're _dudes._  And they're practically _naked._  

  
  
And yeah, he saw a few chicks as scantily clad and meandering to booths, dollar bills folded neatly in cleavage or panty lines, some with nothing but pasties and thongs dawned, but that's  _normal_ for a club. He had never even heard of a place being  co-ed like this; didn't even think it could exist. 

  
It makes sense _Bart_ would know it. 

  
  
He leaned against the counter of the bar, scoping out the dancing crowd, and pointedly ignored the main stage (which had a male and female dancing duet going on, it almost seemed like a dance off), a slight frown on his face.

  
  
Well, this was kind of awkward. 

  
Suddenly, Bart was shoving a shot into his chest, and smiling wickedly. He leaned forward, close enough to Wally's ear so he was able to be heard, and basically shouted: "Loosen up! This is  gonna be _fun_. This is _different_. You said in style, and this _is_ style!" 

  
Wally rolled his eyes, accepted the shot, and downed it with only a slight wince. He shoved the empty glass back to Bart, a hesitant grin on his face, and quipped, "I'm gonna need a few more if you expect me to dance." 

  
  
Bart reciprocated the grin and turned back to the bartender, and Wally decided not to question how he's even able to obtain the alcohol. It's wasn't important, Bart had his ways.

  
_Always_ had. 

  
  
Sooner than was probably "healthy", or smart, he was more than five shots in, and he trying not to laugh at Bart and Cassie's _attempt_ at dancing. They were grinding awkwardly against each other, but Bart couldn't keep a straight face, and he laughed too much whenever Cassie was in front of him. So he assumed the role of 'girl' in the dance, and that was just too amusing to Wally, so soon he was laughing, too. And his face was warm, and his body relaxed, and it was fucking _good_ that he had a few shots, because looking at the male dancers wasn't making his skin crawl anymore, not an inkling of nervousness crept through him when he caught their eye. He could look at them, observing, and decide they were just as hot as any chick, _objectively_ , in their own way, and there was nothing wrong with that. There wasn't. It was fine to notice a person's attractiveness, regardless of gender. 

  
As long as they didn't try to give him a dance, that's where he'd draw the line. Because _yeah_ , you could be a good looking dude, but he wasn't into that, he was almost positive. It's not like it was something he focused on extensively, but the idea of it made him uneasy, rather than excited-- not like if one of those thong-laced chicks came up and offered. 

  
  
He was confident; didn't need to be embarrassed to be here. Didn't need to be embarrassed by the copious amounts of basically naked male bodies. 

  
  
And so when he followed Bart and Cassie, a bit tipsy, to the stage, and they slid into the booth, he was ready to admit he was actually having a pretty damn good time. His smile was honest, completely natural, and they chattered loudly over the swell of the music. 

  
  
"This is a pretty cool place," He admitted finally, and Bart was all grins, ear to ear. 

 

"It's _so_  crash, dude! You can drink, dance, watch performances-- it's seriously an all-in-one, and it's not even a crazy expensive cover." 

  
Cassie laughed, slapping Bart on the back, and added, "And you can see a bunch of _hunks_ in their g-strings." 

  
Bart's cheeks were pink, although it was probably from drinking more so than embarrassment, he'd never been one to be embarrassed over his sex drive, and he nodded vehemently in agreement. 

  
"The g-strings _are_ a nice touch," He said through a smirk, and nudged Wally, "And look, lots of pretty _ladies_!" 

  
Wally hummed in agreement, watching the crowd dissipate from the center of the club and to the sides: in booths, chairs, and some congregate around the bar. He noticed they're pretty close to the stage, directly in front of the end of the cat-walk on the right, and he felt a thrill of excitement coarse through his body. They were so close that if a dancer came sashaying down, no one would block their view, and suddenly he grinned like he was in middle school again, smitten with that idea.

  
A voice cut through the music, bouncy and full of energy, "Ladies! Gentleman! All you other _scoundrels,_ " At this Wally quirked an eyebrow, and focused his attention back to the center of the stage, "We at The Watchtower are saving _lives,_ everyday, with our sexy, sultry, _powerful_ vigilantes. Tonight, we've got our best heroes out, and we hope you'll give them a warm welcome! Please wait to tip until _after_ performances, as well as request VIP services! The champagne room with be open until 6 a.m., as a late night special, so don't be shy! Remember, citizens, if you ever show our wonderful dancers any _villainous_ behavior, you'll be served some swift justice by one of our bouncers faster than you can blink!" 

  
Bart gave a short laugh,  and nudged Wally, as if Wally would be the one out of the three to be bounced out of here. As if. 

  
If he remembered correctly, _Bart_ was the one who had a probation officer in high school, _not_ him. But that was neither here nor there.

  
"Now, without further adieu, may I present to you our first lovely heroine.... _ Catgirl_!" 

  
Wally hummed to himself, contemplating. Not very creative, but whatever. It was all good fun.

  
His interest heightened when a limber, leggy woman sauntered through the stage curtains, whip in hand, completely dressed in taught, shiny black latex. It left absolutely _nothing_ to the imagination, much to the crowd's, and Wally's, delight. 

  
  
A swingy song started up, and she gave a twirl, showing off her leather tail and matching ears.

  
Bart whistled eagerly, earning a elbow from Cassie, and Wally laughed. Okay, so the cat outfit _was_ a little cheesy, but she could  _work_ it. She danced herself around the stage, classy and sexy all at once, in tune to the beat of the music, and as cat-like as a person could hope to be. At one point her whip was discarded, and then she was rolling her hips and mewling, and Wally was starting to think he could have a _really_ good time, if Bart wasn't trying to imitate her, especially when a black, gloved hand came up to start unzipping the front of her outfit. 

  
And then she was topless, and Wally _was_ having a good time, regardless of Bart being a dork, and then when it had come to her pants, the music cut off, and she sauntered off stage, a mischievous smile on her face. 

  
  
"Catgirl, everyone! Please, a round of applause! Cats are like that, you know-- never giving you the attention you want-- Up next--" 

  
  
Wally leaned back into the booth, shooting Bart a grin, who matched it,  and got situated for the next show.

  
He saw a Wonder Woman shimmy down to her underwear, Batgirl's bare ass, and even a Super Man (Conner would have been either extremely disturbed or amused, Wally didn't know, you could never tell with him. But that was his favorite superhero, so maybe it would be the first option) which made Bart quite smitten, and he seemed a bit more flushed than before.

  
Wally was getting antsy, ready to dance again, or get another drink, when the announcer returned as Super Man sauntered off stage, picking up his discarded costume as he went. 

  
"And now, our last performance.. One of the houses's favorites, the Boy Wonder.. _Robin_!" 

  
Immediately the stage lights turned from blue to dark red, and the low thrumming of slow, pounding music started up. The beat shuddered in between words-- but Wally couldn't catch them, his eyes were fixated steadily on the figure that had entered the stage, shyly wrapped inside a black cape. His head was tilted down, and Wally couldn't make out the dancer's eyes from under his black mask. He looked small, fragile almost, and Wally wondered why _he_ was a favorite, when he seemed so shy. 

  
At the second drop of the beat, the dancer's head flicked up, a soft smirk on his lips, and Wally swallowed thickly. 

  
  
This dancer was different than the other ones.

  
He moved in a way the other's hadn't; graceful, purposeful, _demanding_  movements. He controlled the rooms attention, Wally could tell, in a different way. He dominated the stage with lethal movements and a seductive grin. His hips rolled as he pushed the cape slowly behind him, reaching his fingers up to untie it, and let it flutter to the floor. His lopsided smirk was as endearing as it was dangerous, and Wally was embarrassed to noticed that his spandex-- boxer briefs-- whatever they were, were skin tight-- and vibrant red, with a yellow capital 'R' dead center, right on his bulge. Wally snapped his eyes away. Robin had black and red shoes on. Jordan's, definetly Jordans. Those were-- 

  
Wally wished he had something to drink right now, because all of a sudden the air was thick, tense, and the crowd silent except for the occasional hoot and whistle. And he was hyperaware of the way his cheeks suddenly felt hot. 

  
Robin's legs spread in time with the beat, and he gyrated slowly, head thrown back. His feet moved over the floor, gliding smoothly towards the pole in the center of the stage. He flicked his head again, moving his bangs, and Wally felt at ease enough to stare unabashedly now that the dancer's focus was off the audience. 

  
  
God, he was pale. 

  
And his shoulders and biceps were toned, and his waist curved in so abruptly (and erotically, not that Wally would think that, just in _general_ ) that Wally wondered if was natural. The kid looked so thin, although when he swiveled around the pole, Wally could see taut stomach muscles flexing. He swallowed, his eyes darting to his side, looking for a reaction from Bart. A, ' _Ha! Caught you!_ ', but it never came; the redhead was focused intently on the stage, lower lip caught under his teeth in anticipation. 

  
Wally turned hesitantly back, embarrassed, and his cheeks felt suspiciously as if he were blushing. 

  
Robin was looking in their direction, back pressed to the pole, arms gripping above his head and a sunk to the floor, spreading his legs open as he went. Wally blinked, flushed, and fought the urge to glance away, feeling as if he'd be losing if he did so. Losing what, he didn't know. His pride? The ability to say he was completely, utterly stra\--

  
Robin's back arched and he jerked his hips up, and damnit, those fucking shorts were _way_  too tight. Wally's eyes jerked up from the bulge in between the dancer's legs. It was weirdly intimate to be able to see him from that angle. 

  
  
The part of his brain that usually badgered him, nagging him, saying: ' _You are Completely Straight_ ' shriveled up and died, and he was too tipsy, and honestly, too distracted, to investigate further. 

  
Robin's tongue darted out over his lower lip, catching Wally's attention, and then he flipped the opposite way, and shimmied up to a standing position. Wally's throat was dry. 

  
He arched again and shook his ass, and Wally would have laughed if it was anyone else, or any other situation, but this fucking skinny, pale kid was swiveling his hips better than anyone he had ever seen. It caught him off guard and was so strangely thrilling that he dug his fingers into his legs, nails biting through the fabric. 

  
That's when he became aware he was achingly, disturbingly, hard. And it was _obvious_. He panicked a bit and palmed himself into a better, more discreet position, and grimaced. Fuck Bart for getting him drunk. And he had just watched beautiful women strip. And Robin-- Robin's ass was _girly_ , damnit\-- 

  
Robin peeked over his shoulder, and Wally stiffened, seeing the coy smile thrown in his direction. His gut twisted uncomfortably, and tore his gaze away, anywhere but his face, or god, his ass. 

  
Oh, he had a tattoo. Right on his bicep. Of a bird, a red one. It's wings were spread, as if it were in flight. 

  
The realization had Wally's face flushing again--- he should have noticed it right away. Had he really been so distracted that he couldn't see a huge, obvious tattoo of a bird on that kid's arm? Jesus. He would never hear the end of it if Bart had any idea how absolutely.. _distracted_  he was. He flicked his eyes down to his hands, suddenly a bit ashamed. 

  
The approach of two, wonderfully long legs caught his attention, and he gulped up at Robin's gyrating figure.

  
  
He had his arms swung lazily above his head, staring down at Wally as his hips rolled and stomach flexed. Wally honestly, _truly_ felt his soul leave his body. Or maybe that was the blood rushing from his head. 

  
His heart was in his throat as he stared up, transfixed, and then Robin's pink mouth was moving. He was saying something, but Wally didn't catch it.

  
The mouth curved into a smile, and then repeated the phrase, _Watch me._

  
Wally glanced hastily at Bart, and Cassie, who were both flushed and staring, as Robin made his way back to the pole, and then snapped his gaze back. 

  
_Watch me_. 

  
  
Damn it. And he did, he couldn't tear his eyes away, couldn't even pretend he wasn't interested in Robin's lithe body swiveling around the pole. Couldn't stop if he _wanted_. He watched as Robin lifted himself from the ground, as if it was easier than walking, and spun himself in a slow, purposeful circle, legs raised and knees bent. And then he was upside down, and Wally thought the room went with him, because suddenly he felt like his chest had flip-flopped, and Robin's legs were spread impossibly far. He could see his muscles flexing, straining, and his ribs as his chest heaved. And then he was upright, pole in between his legs as he bent backwards, slowly. So slowly. His hands moved down his chest, fingers slipped under his spandex, and he popped it up with a smile. 

  
  
Wally felt insecure watching him. Like somehow he was missing something that was very obvious, and was a complete fool for not being able to place the feeling. 

  
When Robin's body slid to the floor, it was unsure who was more out of breath-- Robin, or Wally. As the song slowed to a stop, and the crowd erupted into cheers and catcalls, Wally was snapped back to his senses.

  
  
He grunted and pushed out of the booth quickly, stumbled, and ignored Bart's surprised exclamation as he pushed through the crowd. He was feeling very nauseous all of a sudden.

 

  
"A big round of applause for all our dancers! They do it for you, so be sure you tip--" 

  
Wally pushed through the bathroom door, was pleased to find it empty, and made his way to the sink. He turned it on and cupped his hands under the cold water, splashing his face. His cheeks were very obviously flushed, and it felt good against his warm skin. He focused on steadying his breathing, embarrassed by his own reaction. 

 

  
This was _fine._  
  
He was aloud to get worked up at a strip club, for god's sake. He hadn't done anything wrong, not at all. In fact, for his first time in a strip club (if Bart knew that, he'd _really_  never hear the end of it) he'd wager he did better than most. 

  
  
He gathered his wits, deciding to see what the bar had in terms of food, and resolved himself to a few more hours in this throbbing, confusing place. 

  
  
****

  
Bumping into a sweaty, barely clothed body was _not_ part of Wally's plan. He blinked, and wobbled back, catching himself on the wall. A soft, 'oof' could barely be heard over the music, and he wasn't sure if it had come from his mouth or the person he had practically run over. He shook his head, then opened his eyes, realizing he had squeezed them shut with the sway of his head. 

  
"Ah, are you alright?" A voice chirped, mouth moving slowly with the quirk of a smile. Wally's stomach dropped and he swallowed. 

  
Robin. 

  
Of _course_.

   
Because he couldn't have bumped into the chest of a barely clothed woman, he had to bump into the chest of a _man_ , a _stripper_.. man. The stripper man that had caused him to rush to the bathroom to splash his face with cold water. And he was _staring_ at him.

  
Wally couldn't read his expression because of the mask, not that he was the best at deciphering expressions, anyhow, but he wondered anyway, what kind of face he was making underneath it. He was pleased to discover he was in fact, _taller_ , so at least he had that going for himself, although those legs had seemed like they went on for miles--

  
"Hel- _lo_? You good?"   
  
Wally blushed, realizing he had been staring, rather rudely, instead of apologizing. 

  
"Huh?"   
  
Robin's lips twitched, and then he was laughing, a light sound that faded into the throb of the music. 

  
"I said, are you _alright_? You ran to the bathroom pretty damn quick." 

  
Wally's ears burned, "Oh, uh-- yeah, I got.. sick." 

  
  
Robin's smile didn't falter, and he leaned forward so Wally could hear him more clearly. His body heat was a bit distracting, if Wally was honest. "Don't get too wasted, they kick you out if you get disorderly." 

  
And then Robin leaned forward, even further, until Wally could imagine the feel of his lips against his ear, so close that if he reached out, barely a few inches, he'd be touching that pale, slick chest. 

  
"Did you like my dance?" Robin asked, voice soft against his ear. His breath tickled. 

  
Wally blinked, "Huh?"

  
A laugh, it was almost breathless. And Wally cursed himself for being such a wreck. He shouldn't have drank so much, honestly. 

  
  
"Did you watch me?" The voice asked, soft, almost hopeful, and Wally's stomach coiled into a heated knot. 

  
"Yeah," he breathed out, "I was watching." 

  
Robin leaned back suddenly, a devilish grin on his face, and he nodded. "Good." 

  
Wally watched him spin on his heel gracefully and walk away, towards a door that said ' _Employee's Only_ ', and then disappear behind it. He felt oddly disappointed. Oddly excited.  
  
  
Just, very _odd_.   
  
  
  
He couldn't even be offended with himself for thinking that Robin's ass was actually, really, quite nice. 

 

 

  
***  
  


Bart, thankfully, didn't mention anything about the show, other than a laugh and to comment on Wally's weak stomach. They resumed their positions at the bar, gulping down drinks in between handfuls of pretzels, and bantering loudly over the sound of music. Cassie, unsurprisingly, was swept away by men and women alike to be danced with, much to her amusement, and even Bart was approached. And Wally was, too, but he waved them off, too entranced by the bowl of pretzels in front of him to feel compelled to move. He also, honestly, felt like he had experienced as much as he could stand for the night. 

 

For such a spunky kid, Bart sure blushed a lot. Or maybe they were just _drunk_. Wally didn't mind either way, really. The kid deserved a good time, and he let him go easily with a shrug and a clap on the back, warning him to "use protection, kid", which earned a glare and a snort. 

 

He popped the last pretzel into his mouth and sighed, head feeling a bit fuzzy around the edges. For some god forsaken reason, he couldn't stop thinking about that  _Robin_ , the way he approached him after the show, and the way his body had moved so smoothly around the pole. Why had Robin even approached him after? Was he seriously that interested in wether Wally had been paying attention? Probably not. I mean, Wally  _was_ in the bathroom. Maybe the kid just needed to piss.

 

But.. He didn't even go inside. He turned around and left right after he had asked Wally if he liked his dance.

 

 He bit the inside of his chek in contemplation, fingers gliding around the rim of his glass. The weariness of the night was catching up. Maybe he had been grossed out after Wally said he got sick; didn't want to see if Wally had left anything behind for employees to clean up. 

 

Wally decided that was the most likely reason and took a deep gulp of his drink. He reached a hand out for another pretzel, and remembering it was empty, brought his watch up to his eye line to check the time. 

 

1:50. 

 

Damn, it was late. Or, er, early. 

 

A figure plopped down beside him, and figuring it was Bart, he turned and leaned so he could be better heard, "Hey, when were you figuring we'd get outta her--" His voice was sucked back down his throat when he realized it was, in fact, not Bart who was sitting next to him, but a certain onyx haired, smirking, stripper. 

 

He had put on a shirt, Wally noticed as he snapped his mouth shut, which seemed a bit ridiculous because it was completely netted and  _see through_. 

 

"You haven't even bought me a drink yet," Robin laughed, noticing Wally's shocked expression. 

 

"I-- uh, no, I wasn't--" 

 

"It's fine," Robin waved a hand, beckoning a bartender. A short haired, attractive, black girl approached and Robin beamed up at her, "Raquel! Our schedules line up again?" 

 

She smiled down at him, "Looks like it, Rob."  

 

Wally felt awkward, like he was interrupting a conversation, or reunion, or whatever, and shifted in his stool. Raquel looked at him, and then the empty pretzel bowl, and her eyebrow lifted.

 

"This is--" Robin looked at Wally, and Wally imagined his gaze as very expectant, although the domino mask gave him no reason to think that was true.

He offered his name with more confidence than he knew he had, "Wally." 

 

"Wally." Robin repeated, slowly, feeling out the name. His smile brightened again.

 

"Wally is getting me an Amaretto sour, Raquel." Robin said with a nod, flicking a mischievous grin at Wally. 

  
Wally's cheeks flushed and he looked at Raquel, wondering if she knew Robin had coerced him into that, but she just rolled her eyes and set off to get his drink.

  
  
"You seem out of your element, Wally," Robin said, leaning on the palm of his hand. Wally refocused his attention on the other, disturbed with the spark of excitement his voice gave him. 

  
"I am," he admitted, and then furrowed his brow, "I mean, I'm not. I just.. have never been to a club with.." 

  
"Strippers?" Robin offered with a grin. Wally was annoyed his mask was still on. 

  
"Yes," He said, and then shook his head. "No. Well,  _guys._ Stripping." 

  
Robin didn't seem perturbed, "Oh? I thought you were here with your boyfriend." 

  
Wally's face drained of color, and he said a bit too loudly, "No! God, no! That's my cousin." 

  
"My mistake," Robin said between a smile, "Where is he now?" 

  
That was a good question. 

  
  
Wally furrowed his brow and looked around the club. He wasn't on the dance floor. He could see Cassie, though, body pressed against someone else, her smile visible from his chair. 

  
He pursed his lips and squinted. 

  
Ah, shit. His back was facing Wally, but he could see that Bart was speaking animatedly, almost frantic, to a bouncer. Shit, that was his cue, then. Bart was probably about to meet his reckoning for being too rowdy, or god, what if that idiot _stole_ something? 

  
"Shit," Wally said, standing quickly and throwing down some cash on the counter. "I  gotta go." 

  
He ignored Robin's curious gaze and pushed through the crowd, honed in on the back of Bart's head, worrying his lower lip. 

  
  
_I swear, if he stole something.._ Wally thought nervously. He grabbed Bart's shoulder, who jumped in surprise at the contact, and pulled him back. 

  
  
"Is there a problem, man?" He asked the bouncer, nerves seeping into his voice. 

  
"No!" Bart said in annoyance before the other could answer the question, shrugging Wally off. "For go's  _sake_ I'm jus' asking for his number, _Wally_." 

  
Wally blinked, and then felt embarrassed for his overreaction. The bouncer laughed, and Wally really looked at him for the first time. He was shockingly handsome, clearly some type of Hispanic, and fucking _intimidating_. Bart was always pretty brazen, though. Props to him for having the balls to hit on someone who could throw him out, especially as clearly intoxicated as he was. And _underage_ to be drinking. God, was he even old enough to get _into_ this place? 

  
"You hadn't got to that point, yet," The bouncer said with a soft smile. 

  
Bart huffed and shot Wally an annoyed look. His mouth opened, probably to say some sort of smart comment, but Cassie's miraculous appearance saved Wally from his increasing embarrassment. 

  
" _Guys_ ," She said, all smiles, but she wobbled unsteadily on her legs. Wally caught her by the arm and frowned. He had already started to sober up, (fast metabolism and all. He was an athlete, on top of a freak. But whatever. More food and drinks for him), but she was absolutely _wrecked_. "This 's the bes'... BEST," She giggled, "Night of my _life_." 

  
Even Bart was gaping at her. He had a fast metabolism too. 

  
Wally grimaced, "Yeah, it's fun. But you know what's more fun? Sleeping. Yeah, I think it's time to get you home, Cas." 

  
  
Cassie looked absolutely scandalized at the idea of going home, to _sleep_ , nonetheless. 

  
" _Never_ ," She gasped. 

  
  
Wally's attention was caught by the chuckle of the bouncer, and he looked at him, wondering if they'd be kicked out, after all. 

  
  
"I'll help you get her outside," He said, reaching for her other arm. His name tag said Jaime. 

  
Wally decided Jaime was an okay guy, in his books. 

  
Bart huffed, crossed his arms, and didn't try to hide his annoyance with being interrupted at his attempt to flirt. Wally wasn't phased, almost wanted to tease him for it, but thought better of it. 

  
"Thanks, man," Wally said, struggling towards the exit. Cassie was dead set on staying _forever_ , as she put it, and was not making their job easy. But they pressed on, Bart dragging behind, not without complaint. 

  
"No problem, ese," Jaime said with a shrug and a pleasant smile, "It's my job. I'll call you guys a cab." 

  
Wally was thankful, and expressed it heartily with a relieved sigh. He was ready to get home as soon as possible, eat a snack (a midnight snack is just as important as breakfast, he argued to Kaldur, who had been woken up one night to the sound of the smoothie maker), fall asleep in his bed, and forget all about black haired strippers with red spandex and netted shirts and pink nipples. 

 

 


End file.
